Confident

Ok, friends, something I'm not is... confident.

I wouldn't say in the personal realm. More in the 'life is gonna turn out good and I know it' realm. But then again, if you're reading this blog and going through infertility, you know exactly what I mean.

Since I've posted last, we visited an adoption agency in Texas. We used to live there before moving to Alabama, and we have some acquaintances who have used this agency and had a good experience. By the way, I still do not feel 'called to adopt'. But I know I feel called to be a mother to a living child.

We signed up with this agency, and wrote them our first check (of many) while we were there. Hmm. We looked at some of the photo albums and Dear Birth Mother letters. Hmm. We looked at some of the pictures that were posted of adopted children. That was so interesting. Those pictures were the first good thing I can remember seeing in a long time in this infertility journey. It seems I'm always seeing the ultrasounds of others, the baby shower invitations of others, the pregnancy announcement emails of others. So to see that this has WORKED for other women with infertility (you have to have a medical diagnosis of infertility to use this agency), well, it makes me say - hmm (my apologies for reminding you of a song of a similar name).

At church on Sunday, our pastor spoke out of Genesis 12 on Abraham. It's the time when he is literally called by God to "leave your country, your people and your father's household and go to the land I will show you" (Genesis 12:1). And he will be blessed richly for doing this. I felt God speaking to me in spite of myself. You have to understand, walking into church right now feels almost like a joke. How can I be angry at Him and still go and try my best to offer the sacrifice of praise?

But God understands us. He knows my motive - to try to hang onto Him. And I know He is holding onto me, even when I beg Him to just let me go. And I have, so many times.

Anyway, this adoption agency places many Hispanic children, and for us, we would be delighted with that. It just feels right - I can honestly say that. And so when the pastor read this verse, it resonated with me. It does feel like leaving your country - what you're comfortable with - and reaching out to another culture. And while we don't know exactly how or when or anything about any of this, it does seem like I can hear the whisper, ever so quietly, of God extending this same invitation to us. And it is amazing just how quiet a whisper it has been. Perhaps (who am I kidding?) God knows just how emotionally painful it would be if He just declared from the rooftops "MY DAUGHTER, WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADOPT SINCE YOU CANNOT HAVE A BIOLOGICAL CHILD?" I would be angry and crying and feeling ashamed.

The sermon title was Do You Have a Dream? Oh boy, do I. And do we all. And following this dream, any true dream, will take: courage, big faith, meet big needs, and TAKE TIME. Amen, dear pastor. The taking time part has nearly ripped the faith right out of me. And some hours, some days, it does. But then, I spend some time outside, maybe trimming ivy or picking up some sticks from our many trees in our yard. Or I'll go the botanical garden like I did today.

And the sun in the leaves, the clear blue sky, the air - does something to me. I'm still that broken-hearted, bruised, sad, disappointed girl. But something has changed.

For just a moment, I forget I have infertility.